


My Last Breath of Heir

by SolarEscapeArtist97



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-22 16:21:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarEscapeArtist97/pseuds/SolarEscapeArtist97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've loved him forever. You thought he loved you back. But you guess he thought the other you was better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Last Breath of Heir

**Author's Note:**

> Thi is a work in process and contains self-harm. Please be aware of this fact while reading!!!!!

     His eyes are closed tightly while he sleeps, irises moving rapidly behind his lids. You can only stare at him as he rests soundly in front of you. The last time you saw him like this was during a video chat when he fell asleep. You find it hard to resist touching him, and give in to temptation. Reaching down, you run your fingers through his soft and messy black hair. You’ve always wanted to touch him like this. Feel his skin against yours. A sigh escapes his lips when you tug gently and he pushes his head against your hand.

 

  Smiling you lean down to press your lips to his, but someone gently taps your shoulder. You turn to see Jade and Rose standing behind you. You hadn’t even heard them come in and are curious as to what they want. You are about to ask what’s going on but you notice guilt flashing across their expressions. Jade grasps your hand in hers, gently tugging at your arm. You hesitate before leaving John with Rose.

“What’s going on Jade?” you ask when you reach the hallway. The ship is lowly lit, casting an eerie shadow over her face. She won’t look straight at you and stares at the floor as she starts talking.

“Well ya see me and Davesprite were dating while we were traveling. Some stuff went south and we broke up. I was pretty ok with everything, but he wasn’t.” she shrugs her shoulders. She doesn’t talk for a few moments letting you take in the information. It doesn’t seem like it would have a large effect on you but by the way she’s acting you know it does.

“What does that have to do with me?” your tone is level as usual but fear is starting to grow in your stomach.

 

She takes a deep breath and starts fiddling with her hair. You can tell she’s thinking of what to say and give her time. Jade has always put things bluntly. If she wasn’t saying it straight out it meant it was going to hurt. You allow your eyes to wonder, searching for anything interesting. You can’t find anything and look back at her. She lifts her head a little and everything comes out in a

rush.

 

“When Davesprite was upset he went to John for advice. I thought it was just some best bro to best bro thing, cause you know he’s sorta kinda you. They started spending more and more time together, which made me jealous cause I didn’t have anyone to talk to anymore. They started cuddling on the couch all the time and Davesprite started staying in John’s room a lot. I didn’t think anything of it until I saw them kissing on the couch one night. I’m sorry Dave…” she trails off, her ears flattening against her head.

 

It takes longer than you expected for everything to sink in. When it does the emotions hit you like a freight train. You double over and stare at the floor as if suddenly it’s the most interesting thing in the world. You feel the tears slide down your cheeks in a continuous stream as Jade rubs your back in slow circles. Sobs rock your body as you cry out, almost loud enough to wake John. You can feel your throat constricting and want to get away from the situation as quickly as possible. You stand up straight and walk away almost as if nothing happened.

“Dave! Wait!” she tries to pull you back to her but you shake your head.

“When John wakes up, tell him I’m sick. Tell him he can’t see me. Tell him I don’t want to see him.” Your voice is void of all emotion. You don’t think you have any left as you walk away.

 

You wait till you’re at least off of the ship to start running. You barely notice the surviving trolls as you fly by them on the meteor. They don’t matter to you at this point. When they try and stop you, you shove them away claiming you have other things to do. The tears have at least stopped and you’ve put on your normal mask. It helps hide the torment you are feeling. It also keeps people from asking questions. You don’t want questions. You want your dark room, some sick beats, and apple FUCKING juice.

 

 

 

 

You slam your door open and shut when you reach your little “cell block”. It’s extremely small containing a makeshift bed consisting of blankets on the floor, a bathroom, a small dresser and a desk in the corner. You flop onto the pillows, grabbing your headphones in the process. You shove them into the jack on the laptop in front of you and blast your tunes. You open up your mixer program and poor your feelings into the music. Tears begin falling along your cheeks again but this time you don’t make a sound. The melody you produce would make anyone cry, every cord filled with the emotion you’re feeling.

 

By the time you’re done your eyelids are drooping. You realize the song is 20 minutes long, surpassing any length of time you’ve put into something before. Standing you stumble blindly in the darkness, ripping off your shades in an attempt to see. You find your way to the bathroom and put them back on before flipping the light switch. You turn the shower on, strip down, and step into the welcoming spray. The warmth seeps into your core and you lean your head against the wall under the shower head. You can’t believe you let this happen. He was yours. You should have told him how you felt before you left. You should have told him you still had feelings despite the time that passed. Now he would never know. If the other you made him so happy you could never break them up. You couldn’t hurt your-his baby that way.

 

Sighing you turn the water off and step out of the shower. You curse yourself for not bringing in a towel knowing full well that you’re going to freeze your butt off. The trolls are constantly turning the heat down because they aren’t used to the cold and see it as a good thing. You groan and flashstep out of the bathroom to your desk. Your towel is draped over the chair and you wrap it tightly around your shivering body. The warmth of it is comforting, but it soon becomes damp. You let it drop to the floor in front of your dresser searching for your underwear. You slip a pair on and cover your legs with pajama pants. You find the bear hoodie your brother gave you and slip it over your head.

 

It’s really late when you finally slip into the mass of pillows and blankets on your floor. It’s extremely comfortable despite the lack of a mattress and you immediately want to fall asleep. Before you go to bed you pull the orange earbuds bro gave you out from underneath your pillow. You remove the large dj headphones from your laptop and replace them with the smaller ones. You shove the pieces into your ear and hit play. The beats you had mixed earlier flow into your ears, helping to soothe your nerves as you sink deeper into the mound of comforters.

 

 

 

You don’t know what time it is when you finally sit up from the floor. You remove the ear-buds and wrap them up in a nice ball. You shove them under your pillow and stretch out your arms. You feel surprisingly well rested and can tell you’ve slept past 2 pm. When you stand from the floor you notice a box sitting on the desk in the corner. You approach it cautiously, unsure of who could have gotten past you while you slept. There’s a note on top of it with Dave written elegantly across it. You pick it up and open it.

“Hello Dave. I Assumed You Would Be Hungry Since You Skipped Dinner Last Night, So I Made You A “Doggy Bag”. It Has Apple Juice As Well As Some Hamburgers Rose Made. Don’t Ask How, Because I Honestly Don’t Know.

Sincerely,

Kanaya”

 

You remind yourself to thank the generous troll later and open the box. Inside it are indeed hamburgers. You unwrap one and take a bite noting that they seem fine despite a slight after taste. You don’t realize how hungry you are until you are on your second burger. You don’t dig into it until you’ve drained half the bottle of -your freaking out that Rose made it for you- apple juice. When you finish the second burger you chug the rest of your precious fruity drink and flop onto your blanket nest.

 

You spend most of the day on your laptop going through old photos John sent you. They range from selfies he took when he was bored to professional photos his dad had taken. You stop at one particular one. John is looking shyly into the camera his bright blue eyes staring directly into yours. The sight of those shallow oceans makes you want to hug him. You wish you had stayed with him till he woke up last night. Maybe than you wouldn’t be feeling so horrible about yourself.

 

Your thoughts begin to wander and you think about the period of time when you took your emotions out on your wrist. You pull up your sleeve to reveal the scars that still sit there, a constant reminder of what you used to be. The sight of them brings back memories of dragging the razor across your skin and watching the blood drip into the bathtub. A sudden need fills you and you can’t seem to fight it back. You leave your room silently in search of

something sharp.

 

You find Kanaya in her bedroom sewing a new dress. The rainbow drinker, you smirk, has a large assortment of needles spread out in front of her and you have to stop yourself from drooling. When you go to speak, she silently lifts one of the many metal objects and hands it to you. The shock is evident on your face and she just shakes her head. Lifting her arm she pulls down her sleeve. Her grey skin is cross-hatched with ugly white scars almost identical to your own. She gives you a small smile and motions for you to take the object. With shaking hands you grasp it between your fingers and leave the room.

 

 

 

You dig the needle in, hissing as you drag it across your scratch covered arm. You take a breath and set it on the sink counter. The blood creeps from the wound and swirls into the water of the bathtub. It is no longer clear and you start counting. You’ve managed to open up 38 new wounds. They are on your right wrist this time instead of your left. You’ve also carved John’s name elegantly into your left thigh. The marks are deeper than the others and you know they will forever be there.

 

You remove the plug from the drain, allowing the blood filled water out of the bathroom. You turn the shower on again and gently clean your wounds. The water stings but it creates a calming sensation over your skin. When you leave the shower all of them have stopped bleeding and you gently dry them. You take a few old shirts from your drawers and start ripping them up. You wrap them around your arm, securing them with a few safety pins you found. John’s name hurts the most, your pajama pants scratching uncomfortably against it. You decide to change into your god tier outfit, giving a sigh as the magical pants wrap coolly around your cuts. You smile at the relief you finally feel. You know you’ll regret it later but for now you simply bask in the after effects it has on you.

 

As your cleaning up the mess you made in the bathroom you hear a commotion coming from outside your room. You quickly shut the bathroom door and open the door into the hallway. You regret your decision when you almost lose your head to a flying orange feather ball. You step out into the hallway, and turn from left to right. You don’t see anyone else but laughter suddenly fills your ears and you find yourself with your back on the carpet. Blue eyes take your breath away as you meet John’s smiling face.

Your attention is quickly changed to the fact that John is laying on your fresh cuts. You wince in pain.

 

“Get off Egderbt.”

 

He looks hurt when you push him off of your chest and onto the floor. You get up and lean against the wall. He stands slowly, staring at you the entire time. His eyes are filled with a mixture of confusion and bewilderment. He seems to finally realize who he’s standing across from.

 

“BRO!” he yells throwing his arms around your shoulders. His blue hood sways on an unseen breeze and you want to hug him back. You keep your hands in your pockets and let him hang on you. It’s not a bad feeling and all too soon it’s gone. He pulls away and shyly rubs a hand over his arm. You notice his cheeks are tinged a light pink as he stares at his shoes. Smirking you reach out and ruffle his hair.

 

You’re surprised when he leans into your touch. The gesture takes you off guard and you pull your hand away. He falls forward at the absence of a balance point, his head landing on your chest. You push his forehead away from you, giving a true smile when he giggles up at you.  Jade must have not told him what you said the night before.

 

“Oh! I gotta go. Dave and I are in a SERIOUS prank war and he’s winning! You should totally…join us.” He notices that you aren’t smiling anymore. A firm line has replaced your happy expression.

 

He called him Dave.  He called the fucking sprite Dave. You grit your teeth, forcing the calm façade to stay. You suddenly feel the urge to twist your new wounds, forcing yourself to focus. You realize sarcasm is the best route to get away from him.

 

“Nah, I got better things to do than hang around with you and birdbrain. Plus you two might start making out while I’m there.” You walk around him but he grabs your wrist.

 

You grunt in pain, fuck slipping from your mouth. John’s eyes widen and he grips you tightly, making your eyes water. He grips the top side of your arm and yanks your sleeve up. His fingers travel softly over the t-shirt bandage. He undoes the safety pins, peeling away the fabric. The blood that crusted over them before is stripped away leaving them exposed and sore. You yank your wrist from his grip and quickly pull your sleeve down. He looks at you with a shocked expression, silent tears welling in his eyes. You drop your gaze to the floor, unable to face the hurt in those precious baby blues.

 

“Why?”

 

It comes out as a whisper and the quiet of it makes your heart break. You don’t dare tell him it’s his fault. You know his pain would affect you more than your own.

 

“I didn’t know how to deal with the pain of losing Bro.” you lie, but he picks up on it immediately.

 

“You’re lying. Tell me why!” he raises his voice in earnest but you ignore his pleas. Sighing you just shake your head and turn away.

 

“Go back to your prank war John. Let me deal with this on my own.”

 

“Dave! Tell me why! Is it because of me?” his voice makes you freeze. He notices your change in posture and you feel a hand grasp your shoulder. You shrug him away.

 

“It’s not Dave.” You grumble turning back to face him. His looks puzzled.

“What do you me-“You cut him off mid-sentence with a finger pressed to his lips.

“It’s not Dave. It’s turntech. The real Dave's a fucking bird remember? Now go finish your prank war.”

 

You turn and stroll back into your bedroom closing the door on John’s shocked expression. You sink to the floor, tears streaming down your cheeks. You feel like you’re sitting there for forever before you finally resign to temptation. You know you’re going to regret your next decision but you do it anyway. Standing you wander into the bathroom. You flop yourself onto the toilet seat and stare at your new needle. It seems to taunt you with the streak of blood covering its side, beckoning you to pick it up. As you reach for it you feel a weird sensation wrapping around your body.

The air pressure in the room changes as does the temperature. It’s suddenly a lot warmer, the summer like breeze caressing your face in an almost loving way. You sit there with your arm outstretched towards the ceramic sink ledge, a statue as the wind seems to swirl. Someone begins to take shape in front of you, blue against the white of the walls. You can’t peel your eyes away as John appears in front of you. His lips are curled in a sad smile as he takes your hand in his. Tears fog over your vision making it difficult to see as he squats in front of you.

“Shh…I’m here." His voice is barely above of whisper and you realize how close he is to you. If you wanted you could stretch yourself an inch or two and kiss him. He beats you to it. 


End file.
